Heart & Soul

Two weeks had passed by since I had met The Beautiful Man. Those two weeks had gone by without even a trace of him, not a single sign that I had ever once met him, that the night itself had ever occurred. The days had went by both to my dismay, since I had never been so intrigued by someone in my entire existence. and to my joy, since I would not have to go out on a date with a man that I hardly even knew.

The days passed by in a haze, my curiosity thickly clouding my brain and leaving me with unanswered questions, that I was certain would remain unanswered for the rest of my days.

After our agreement on that night at the party, we had only talked for a few minutes more. Standard banter, although it remained more flirty than normal conversation with a stranger would be. After casual talk he explained that he needed to find his brother, to which we said our goodbyes. That was it. No exchanging of numbers, no more questions, not even his name. I was left with nothing, and even though that was good for the situation I was currently in, I couldn't help but feel disappointed that I hadn't even gotten to put a name to a face so intriguing. I was left to wallow in my thoughts, my queries, and my theories.

"Hellllloo? Earth to Josie?" I was struck out of my absorption of my mind by Bailey's fingers snapping in my face. I broke my trance instantly, refocusing my attention to the cup of cappuccino that sit in front of me. I picked up the silver spoon and began to stir the caffeine concoction before bringing it to my lips.

"Yeah?" I asked, feigning interest in her dialogue. The truth was that my mind had been elsewhere for a while now, and I often found myself transfixed in my own thoughts.

"Damn, you have been so out of it lately. Is there something distracting you?" she prodded me as I turned my attention to her presence. Her dark hair was fixed up in a sloppy bun atop her head, her thick, black rimmed glasses sat perched on the bridge of her nose, and the sleeves on an old black hoodie stretched over her hands as she gripped her own mug of cappuccino in her hands. Her attire was much like my own, our "Sunday Morning's Best" as we referred. Sundays were the days where we sat around all day and cleaned or got caught up on assignments, as neither of us were ever scheduled to work. It was our tradition.

"No," I replied passively as she glanced back to her open MacBook in front of her.

"As I was saying, I have a conclusion on this research paper to write, then Vic is coming over, I hope you don't mind," Bailey pushed up her glasses and squinted at the words displayed on the screen, surely perfecting them in her mind before retyping them. She was such a perfectionist.

"Well if I am being signaled to catch the drift, take it as caught," I raised my eyebrows at my best friend and we both giggled before I picked up my empty mug and carried it to the sink. "I was planning on going to Barnes & Noble anyway, I'm gonna finish writing that essay," I explained before rubbing my eyes groggily.

"When are you going to drop out already? The only thing you're doing is lying to yourself," Bailey stated pointedly. Her crass statements never showed modesty, essentially because she lacked it. She was a very open person, the polar opposite of myself. We clashed, but complimented each other simultaneously.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I shrugged, ignoring the elephant in the room.

Bailey's response was mere scoff before waving me off with a flick of her wrist. I chuckled at my best friend, thankful she didn't push me to do what I would have to do sooner or later. She was absolutely right when she said that I was only lying to myself about being in medical school, because it was never where my heart was, nor will it ever be. I chose to shove it to the side, as I had from the start.

I sauntered into my bedroom to take a look at my appearance before I left the house. I tugged awkwardly at the deep blue sleeves of my oversized sweater that loosely hung off of one shoulder, making sure they were long enough to reach past my hands, a habit that I had. I peered at my eyes in the mirror in my headboard, noting the clumps of mascara that had formed from my sleep, but choosing to ignore them. I adjusted my glasses that I only wore before bed and on Sundays, and quickly swept my thick, dark locks up into a massive messy bun on top of my head before tugging on a pair of black leggings and my tattered black Toms. I neglected my day old make up, not caring about my looks on a Sunday of all days. I grabbed my car keys, messenger bag, and laptop before making my way out of my bedroom.

"See you some time tonight," I called from over my shoulder as I opened the door.

"Kay." Bailey flashed a thumbs up before I headed out the door to my car that sat parked in the lot of our apartment complex. I quickly got in and turned on an old Brand New cd before cranking the volume and heading towards the expressway.

-

I pulled into the lot of the Barnes & Noble and grabbed my things so I could head inside. This bookstore was like my second home, literally. Not only was it where I worked, but it also had a Starbucks attached, and had free wifi. So of course, I came here often to do school work and enjoy the atmosphere, and catch up on some reading. Leave it to me to come to my work on my off day. I chuckled to myself, walking into the Starbucks line immediately. It wasn't very long at all, only a couple people long.

I stood in line waiting for my turn patiently when a voice broke the silence.

"Did you know that on average, smokers die ten years sooner than nonsmokers?" the ever-so-familiar male voice whispered lowly in my ear, his proximity so close that his lips grazed my exposed ear, making me jump clear off of the floor.

"Did you know that it's not okay to scare the living shit out of people you have only met once?!" I whipped around to meet The Beautiful Man.

At this point, I wasn't sure if the situation was actually taking place in reality, for I was still lost in my thoughts from the night two weeks ago. I had not prepared for this moment, for I didn't expect it.

But sure enough, he was there. If it were even possible, he was even more attractive than I had remembered. A dark gray beanie sat atop a tousled head of hair, a t-shirt with the sleeves torn off and a brand called Key Street modeled on the front, and black basketball shorts took the place of his attire that he wore on that night, exposing even more tattoos than I realized he had.

His response was a deep, throaty chuckle that made him clutch his stomach. Glad that he found this funny. I furrowed my brows, the expression on my face evident that I had not liked what he had done. You shouldn't do that to people you hardly knew.

"Josie, are you going to order or are you going to flirt?" Maxine, the barista that was always here when I was called from behind the counter, making me turn away from the chuckling man and think about how to handle this situation.

I ordered a soy latte and a panini before stepping to the side to let Peter Parker order whatever he needed to between his laughter. How he still found this funny, I had no idea.

I tried to rack my brain on things that I could do or say, but I came up blank. The one time I want to make myself think, and my mind goes barren.

Maxine handed me my order and I took it graciously while she gave me a questioning look that I brushed off before finding a table to sit at, hoping that he would just blow off the situation as I was trying to. I took out my laptop and powered it on before taking out my panini and taking a large bite. As I did so I was accompanied by Peter Parker, who took the seat across from me.

"So, Josie, fancy meeting you here. I'm Mike, by the way," he stuck out his hand for me to shake, as if I hadn't had a proper greeting already.

"I guess it was fate, Mike By The Way," I tried to remain calm, taking his strong tattooed hand in my dainty one to shake firmly.

"Just Mike, you sarcastic little shit," he spoke with a contagious smile that I couldn't help but crack up at. "And it was hardly fate. I looked up every bookstore within a twenty mile radius of that party and stopped by a different one every morning since because you said you worked at one. Though I will admit to doing a little victory dance behind you before whispering in your ear, which got a priceless reaction by the way,"

My mouth hung open at the entirety of his statement, not sure if I should be creeped out, flattered, or a mix of the both.

"Close your mouth, Josie. You'll catch flies," Mike pointed to my open mouth before taking a drink out of his iced coffee.

"So do you spout smoking statistics to and stalk every girl you meet?" I inquired as I sat back in my seat, crossing my arms over my chest with an expectant smirk on my face. To my response he gave me the famous crooked smirk.

"Only the ones that play hard to get," he joked, and to that I rolled my eyes.

"Fair enough," I countered before taking a drink from my latte and closing my laptop. It was evident that I wasn't going to get much work done.

"Just J my ass...." Mike trailed off, looking me directly in the eye. I broke his gaze, not wanting to make direct eye contact. I couldn't.

"Well how did I know if you were some creepy rapist or something? A girl has to watch her back," I defended, looking over the contours of his face rather than directly into those chocolate brown pools.

"How do you know I'm not one now?" he contradicted, to which I raised a finger.

"Touché," I raised my eyebrows in amusement.

"But boy has your attire varied since that night. Lettin' yourself go?" he spoke and to which I didn't know if I should be offended or to just laugh at.

I mocked hurt, clasping a hand to my chest. "Straight to the heart, man. It's Sunday, there's your partial explanation,"

"And in full?"

"My friend decided to play Barbie that night," I explained, not that it mattered whether I was letting myself go or not to a complete stranger.

"Pity, I was really diggin' the slutty cheetah print shirt, black skinny jeans, and pumps," he tsked with a clucking of his tongue as he motioned to my Sunday morning attire. It was agitating and entertaining all the same trying to decipher his sarcastic statements from the sincere ones.

"Pity, I don't care," I mocked the noise he had just made, causing him to sit back in his seat and laugh heartily.

"I have really met my match, haven't I?"

"In all honesty sir, I have no idea what your match is. But if you are referring to my quick wit to your ridicule, I guess that's standard," I shrugged my shoulders passively with a coy smirk plastered on my face to show that I was highly entertained.

The fact of the matter was that I wasn't as uncomfortable around him as I immediately proposed I would be. Rather, this was the most decent of conversation I had with a male in a long time, unless you count Bill at Allstate to discuss my car insurance policy when I got a new car last year.

"And in all honesty, I have never been so attracted to someone that remained in their pajamas even when they went out in public places," he retaliated without falter. "And for the record, your quick wit is quite enticing,"

I let out a raucous peel of laughter that caused some people to give grimaces my way, but for once I didn't mind them. Whatever had caused the boldness in my blood that night two weeks ago was present again tonight, and I couldn't quite place what it was. I hadn't been this outgoing in such a long time, and that struck me as odd that it somehow was coming back without cause or explanation.

"Bummer, I thought my bedhead and quick wit was sure to drive you away," I arched one of my eyebrows at this man that had occupied my thoughts for a significant amount of time now.

"Ouch," he put a hand to his chest to mock hurt, "I don't know which worries me more, the fact that you think I would give up so easily, or the fact that I find your bedhead particularly sexy,"

"I didn't peg you as the bedhead-loving type of guy, is all,"

"And what did you peg me for then, Josie? I'm curious,"

"My spidey senses told me you were the type that went after the busty, slutty blondes that you were likely to get into the sack regardless. It's obvious that is what you are used to, seeing as you are a man of music," I hypothesized, causing him to tilt his head and nod slowly, absorbing my reply.

"I have went for the type previously, yes. What man wouldn't? But what makes you believe I am a man of music?" he requested, sitting up a bit straighter as he spoke.

As I don't make eye contact, my eyes have a habit of wandering around the rest of his being, picking up on elaborate detail that most wouldn't.

"Astounding perceptivity, you could call it," I quoted him from our conversation at the party. "That and the fact that most of your fingers are crooked, no doubt from breaking them all an innumerable amount of times from colliding with your drum set. Am I right?" I was roaming unknown territory, and as much as I should run away kicking and screaming, I couldn't bring myself to do so. My behavior right now made me question all the walls I had put up within the past couple of years, and I hardly even knew this man.

"You win, Josie. And I never let girls win," Mike smiled, running his tongue along his bottom lip, pausing a second at the hoop that looped through it. "And I guess I should get used to it, seeing as you owe me some dates,"

"I guess I do," I agreed, not wanting to back out of my promise but knowing that I sure as shit should.

"So tell me, is your full name Josie?"

"Josephine, actually," I responded easily, grateful for an easy question.

"Josephine. That's a pretty name," he complimented, and I could feel a vermillion hue slowly creeping up into my cheeks. This man had complimented me more in twenty minutes than any guy had in years.

"Thank you, Mike By The Way. Yours has a pretty nice ring to it as well," I flashed a shit eating grin before taking a gulp from my soy latte.

He shook his head, laughing at my response, much as he had done for the entire conversation.

We talked on for a bit longer, no awkward pauses or statements left hanging in the air. It was surprisingly easy to keep up conversation, for someone that I hardly knew and a man for that matter. Normally, I would have cut and run if he had even done so much as looked me in the eye.

"I should probably get back to my apartment before my roommate thinks I got murdered," I finally said after a long conversation that seemed to be centered around nothing.

"Not so fast Just J, you owe me a date. Dates, actually. Plural. However many my spidey-senses-tingling heart desires, to be exact. And the first one starts in about half an hour," he stated, looking down at his watch.

"What?!" I asked, incredulous and suddenly panic stricken. I needed to act fast. "Can I at least stop at my apartment first? You can follow me,"

"Be snappy, Just J. We've got shit to do," Mike snapped his fingers, getting up and tossing away his empty iced coffee cup as I gathered my things.

I wasn't too aware of what was happening, and I was very undecided on whether or not I should be scared or remain at ease. The last thing I wanted to do was have a panic attack in front of this man. He didn't deserve that, after all.

So I trusted my senses. My senses told me to calm down, because this was obviously the "mother fucking fate" I hadn't been expecting.